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Aware that her lips were moving unconsciously, she listened to the words forming automatic repetitions of phrases long forgotten: "And those that look out of the windows be darkened, And the door shall be shut in the streets." What was it she was repeating? "Also they shall be afraid of that which is high, and fear shall be in the way." What echo of the past was this?
He could not bring himself to this renunciation; slowly his fingers tightened on the other's throat. Driven to desperation by the light of madness that began to flicker in Lanyard's eyes, the Prussian abruptly put all he had of might and fury into one final effort, threw Lanyard off, and in turn attacked him, fighting like a lunatic for footroom, for space enough to turn and make for the windows.
But a great number of tradespeople managed ingeniously to display the national colours in their windows by the juxtaposition, for instance, of yellow lemons, red tomatoes and black grapes. Others emptied their windows altogether.
Paul's in London, is the largest cathedral in England and contests with Canterbury for first place in ecclesiastical importance. Its greatest glory is its windows, which are by far the finest of any in England.
If you are interested, gentlemen, there goes one of our French airplane squadrons on its way to the front." Instantly all four Americans were craning their necks at the windows. High in the air, the French aircraft in flight looked as graceful as swallows on the wing. "They are battleplanes," explained Captain Ribaut further. "Some of the Hun flyers are almost sure of a tumble this afternoon."
Here she stood for some time and turned her closed eyes toward the moon. Then she dropped the curtain, undressed and lay down in the bed, which stood in the spot where she had been used to sleep as a child. As soon as the moon had left the windows of this room or shone through the windows of her present sleeping room, she arose again, dressed herself and returned.
In its two windows were lace and ribbons and ladies' hats and spools of thread, and blue shades drawn high from seven o'clock in the morning until dark. It was the little shop of Ruth Tole a house of Fate on the way from happening to history.
While that was going on I was conscious of nothing except the howling of the wind about the church windows and the far-off tolling of the bell on St. Mary's Rock nothing but this and a voice within me which seemed to say again and again, "I don't love him! I don't love him!"
The light came through the uncurtained windows of a saloon, three long, yellow shafts illuminating the stunted shrubs and sandy places. Craig kept in the shadow between them and drew a little nearer. From inside he could hear the thumping of a worn piano, the twanging of a guitar, the rattle of glasses, the uproarious shouting of men, the shrill laughter of women.
Yesterday here, as on every evening, lights burned, the most rollicking of music rang out, blue tobacco smoke swirled, men and women careered in couples, shaking their hips and throwing their legs on high. And the entire street shone on the outside with the red lanterns over the street doors and with the light from the windows, and it seethed with people and carriages until morning.
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